Till Deceived Do We Part

Good thing I wasn’t a girly girl, or else I would be screaming bloody murder that the rain had wrecked my hair. Then again, what wasn’t the rain destroying? It was reeking havoc on plenty of things, not just my already messed up hair.

It had started to rain shortly after I left the base... and upon the rain starting, Jake phoned. He gave his usual spiel about driving slower in the rain, and by slower, he meant less than the speed limit. So in my case, that was a lot slower.

The thunder was booming, I could even hear it over my blasting music, which was saying something. Now, upon the rain coming, one thought entered my mind; how cliche? An assassin, going to kill someone, gets caught in the storm and an epic battle issues. The epic battles are always in the rain, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I was going to have more fun than I had intended on having. Part of me was wishing for it, another part wasn’t. My arm bandage was already soaked and I could feel the slight weight difference pushing down, putting pressure on my now aching arm. Plus I didn’t plan on sliding through mud puddles, and the epic battles always ends up with some sort of chase. Now, I may not be girly, but I wasn’t a fan of going through mud. I would if I had to, but if I had a choice, I would avoid it like the plague.

The lights shone brightly through the haze and rain, catching my attention. I pulled into town and headed towards my destination; 908 ave. I would take him out first, he seemed the easiest. All I had to watch out for were knives or any other sharp object, seeing as he liked gutting people. But this mission was a class two, meaning it would be as simple as knocking on the door and pulling the trigger as he opened. Usually I didn’t do such simple missions, but with the base in lock down...

I flipped up my hood a few blocks before the street. It aided in hiding face, and I wore the blood absorbing material, the ones I chose were bulky. I didn’t want to go through that whole you’re a girl! phase. Underneath I wore tighter clothes for better fighting, if I needed it, but I doubted I would. However, the only problem with those clothes were they may be better for fighting, but they weren’t up to quality like the other ones. Sure they kept rain out, some, and kept your body warmth in, but it wasn’t 100% full proof.

As soon as I saw the apartment my eyes scanned the area. Looking for fire escapes, allies and any vehicles or objects that could be used to escape or hinder me.

I took in two fire escapes, one on the left of the building, one of the right. The apartment was pretty run down and dingy, the roof shingles falling off and the paint already almost completely peeled off. There only four cars in the parking lot, two which had been stripped for parts, and another two which looked hardly in any condition of running. There was one alley... but from the dark shapes, it was already inhabited.

I parked the car in the parking lot for a run down diner. I wasn’t daring to park in the lot of where he was currently residing, that was stupid. I got out and locked the doors, not that it would do much good. If someone wanted this car, which in this neighbourhood would be highly likely, then locked doors wouldn’t stop them. They’d smash the windows and strip it, as those other two cars had already proven.

I headed towards the apartments, my hands shoved into my pockets and my face pulled back into the hood. Even if a murder in this area was just waiting to happen, I wasn’t going to allow anyone to see me. If the men around the area suddenly said some girl with a rich car drove up then ten minutes later the man was found dead, and the girl gone... well, I’m pretty sure something would click. I wasn’t stupid, well, in my eyes. If someone was to ask Flint, then yes, I am stupid.

As soon as I reached the apartments I had to crinkle my nose in disgust. Sure I had seen some horrible things and smelled things much worse, but my nose never failed to be a coward when it came to these type of stenches. It was a mix between smoke, blood and urine. Judging by the smells, the blood being the strongest, anyone who lived here deserved to be whacked.

I headed up the stairs, only getting a few glances from two men who were huddled in a corner. Most likely trading drugs. I had an urge to go over there and beat them senseless, but if I did that to everyone I found with a drug problem, well, I think then I might get sick of violence. There were too many people to save, or help. An assassin talking about saving and helping isn’t a common thing, but drugs tended to make me feel that way. Don’t ask me why, it was always a subconscious thing.

According to the second paper that had been in the folder, Zeke lived in room 13. I jumped the rest of the stairs and headed down the hallway. The smell of stale blood hit me hard, almost freezing me in my tracks. After I was done here, it would be even worse.

My hand gripped the gun tighter in my pocket as I got closer to my destination. 10, 11, 12...

I stopped outside the door. Yeah, this was it, and the bloody hand print on the front didn’t give it away at all. Note my sarcasm. He probably left it on there as a trophy, or to scare people off. Probably did both in this type of area.

I knocked. I suppose I didn’t have to, but it would make it easier. Knock. He opens. I shoot. The end. Instead of breaking down the door. Hunting him down. Fighting. Shoot. Leave. The end. Much simpler.

There was some sort of grumbling before the clink of chains and the door flew open. If I thought the smell was bad already, I was a fool. When he opened the door, the worst smell hit me. I stared at the man momentarily before taking in his appearance. Yes, this was definitely him.

“What do you want?” He snapped, anger and annoyance in his voice. Probably wondering why the hand didn’t scare me off. I pulled out my gun and before he could begin to plea for his pathetic life, I shot.

The bullet hit him square between the eyes. His eyes were wide and hollow, his mouth opened in a silent scream or plea, I wouldn’t know. His body went rigid and he collapsed.

His blood now leaked out around the bullet, slowing soaking his clothes. I stared down at him and couldn’t help but feel some hate. Usually I managed to leave emotions off the field... heck, usually I didn’t feel this way, but now, thinking of that poor boy, my gut clenched. My hatred steamed out as I glared at him.

I bent down and grabbed his hand, dipping it in the blood. I was careful not to get it on me, not that it would mater. The splatter was already absorbed into my sweater. I pressed his now bloody palm to the door, besides the other one.

“Now that’s a trophy.” I hissed before turning on my heels.

I narrowed my eyes. Now this complicated things. My next target was sitting in his living room, friends all around him as he played poker. Looking at him you wouldn’t guess he did what he did. He looked like a loving man who abided by the rules. But I knew better than to believe my eyes.

I shifted on the balls of my feet. I was currently behind a bush. It’s not as bad as it sounds, it at least aided in protecting me from the down pour. The rain had gotten worse and even my clothes were beginning to feel wet. And that was saying something, they were highly durable for all weather.

I scowled into the rain before heading back to the car. I needed to phone Jake, I had to tell him I had to stake it out for a while until the friends left... or he did. Either or, but one way or another, I was going to get a lot wetter.

I reached my car in no time, and was hearing the phone ring to my ear within seconds. I revelled in the warmth of the car as I sat there waiting. On the seventh ring, Jake picked up.

“Andrayka?” His voice sounded almost panicked, which shot my nerves up ten fold. It also caused my arm to come down on the lock button, locking all the doors.

“What’s the matter?”

“Why weren’t you answering your phone?!” His anger radiated off the phone, as did his concern. Why was he so angry? On low missions it was best not to bring a cell phone, Jake had taught me that. So why was he now letting out his anger?

“I was scouting.” I said slowly. “I phoned to say I need to stake the second mission.”

“No.” His response came immediately, and it took me a moment to realize it. Jake was the one saying that these missions had to be done, which was obvious seeing as he sent me, who had a busted arm, to do them. Before I could ask why, he continued. “Zane isn’t responding and his cars GPS has been disabled. I need you back now.” I blinked. Zane? Not responding?

When it sunk in, I felt the biggest amount of fear I had ever felt, hit me. Zane was like a brother, I considered him one... and now he was missing? Mybrother was missing? Something wasn’t right. Zane was too good. This was either some prank or Jake had screwed up and dialled the wrong number, looked for the wrong GPS... anything, but I knew it wasn’t true. Jake spoke again after my silence.

“I want you back now, Andrayka. Don’t do anything stupid.” Like what? Going after the same man who would risk his life for mine? Who has and is covering my ass in many ways? The same man who had always been there for me, regardless of what anyone said. He was basically telling me to abandon my family, which was a big deal. I didn’t get close to people, and for the few I did, it was a huge deal.

“Someone’s coming. I have to go.” At first I thought it was a lie leaving my lips, but then I realized that the same man I had been staking was now walking to my car, which was parked seven houses down. I hung up before Jake could argue.

I opened the door and stepped out, the man now walking towards me. His face was set almost in an angry look, and now seeing him in this new emotion, I could see how he could have done those things. His emotions were like on and off switches, and he chose when to turn them on; almost like me.

My hand gripped my now slick and almost frozen gun in my pocket. My eyes scanned the area quickly, and luckily for me, no one was out. Probably due to the rain. Which brought upon another question, why was this man walking towards me? In the pouring rain?

“What will it take?” He said speaking, stopping about ten feet away from me. Smart man to not venture too close, stupid man for not realizing I can shoot that far and even farther. “How much money?” I frowned now, what was he talking about. I, however, said nothing. I didn’t want to give away my female identity. “You think I’m stupid? A buddy of mine warned me a hit was placed on my head, then two days later, a stranger appears so many cars down and stays there for an hour? So I’m asking you, how much money will it take?” I had to bite back my laugh. If he knew anything about assassins, he would know that they never took money.

One time I even had a man I was about to murder offer me sex as a trade off. He was probably one of the must vulgar men. With coke and pizza stains on his shirt, B.O radiating off him and his hair covered in grease. And he thought that I would take that, so not to kill him? Granted he did end up stalling me, but only because I was on the ground laughing for at least five minutes straight. I guess that makes me cruel. I completely crush a guys ego and self esteem... then I kill him.

I shook my head and pulled out my gun, however, before I could pull the trigger, I heard another one going off. I dived instinctively then shot up my head, waiting for the next shot. None came, but my eyes did land on the perpetrator. Now, usually I would get mad at myself for not realizing that the mans friends could be helping him and ready to step in... but this time it wasn’t my fault. In his file it listed his closest friends, which were the ones with him, and targeted them as no threat. Labelled under ignore. None had a record, and none owned or had ever used a fire arm. Obviously the computer tech screwed up on this one, or Jake did.

“Can’t say I didn’t try to help you.” The man I was assigned to kill said. He then also pulled out a gun. I recognized it immediately. It was a Springfield Armory 1911 -A1 C.Q.B.We had some of them at the base, and they were decent with a 7mm blow back. However, they were not my choice of weapon. I tended to stick to what I was comfortable with. What I could use without hesitation or thought.

I pushed myself up quick and shot at the first man. He managed to jump to the side, but it did snag his arm, causing him to howl in pain. What a wimp. I got shot in the arm and I didn’t make as much of a fuss as he was. My eyes rolled in annoyance before I jumped, rolling once my shoulder hit the ground. The bullet zipped by me and I wasted no time getting to my feet and slamming my back against my car as another bullet zipped by. I pulled the trigger and the man who had been making the most shots, the mans friend, dropped to the ground. The bullet had hit him in the neck, almost disassembling his head. Two other friends remained, and of course, my main target.

I shifted on the balls of my feet, warming them up. They were almost numb. They were completely soaked, as was the rest of my body. The worst part, however, were my hands. When would I learn to wear gloves? They were probably the worst to begin to numb, since if they did, I wouldn’t be able to react as fast with the trigger.

At first I wondered why the three men that stood in front of me didn’t pull the trigger, then I felt it. Rain on my head. My head that was supposed to be covered by my hood. I guess I didn’t notice it come off. But obviously it had, I was dumb not to realize rolling would knock it off. Heck, any opposite direction would knock it off.

I rolled my eyes and was about to pull the trigger when a sound behind me came. I snapped around, but not fast enough. The barrel of a gun hit me in the head, stunning me. A kick to the back of my knees then rendered me to my feet. I bit back my growl. I had gone four hundred and thirty missions without a screw up, and now, now all of the fights I seemed to get in me cost me something. Granted, the file was the reason why I didn’t know about these men, but still! If this kept going, my ego would be reduced to nothing.

“Great, just great.” I mumbled more to myself than anything. I had to let out my steam someway, and I doubt if I asked sweetly for a punching bag, they would grant me with one. However, with the pounding rain and occasional thunder burst, I didn’t have to worry about them hearing my small angry emotional outburst.

“Either the men are getting uglier, or they’re getting desperate.” The voice behind me said. I could feel the muzzle digging into the back of my skull, not at all letting up. I kept my posture as straight as it could be, considering I was on my knees, and began to seek for weaknesses.

The first weakness I noticed were their postures. They were slacked, not alert. The guns were hanging low, and they weren’t ready to react fast. The second was the lack of communication. If I went on a mission with Flint or Zane, we would merely have to give each other a look and we would know where to stand, what we had to watch for and what to be ready for. These men, however, had no system. It was basically whoever shoots first, gets the kill type of thing. And the third one I noticed was how they handled the gun. I could tell if I was to toss a rock at any of their hands, the gun would slip or their grip would falter from shock. They didn’t hold it with confidence or strength.

“Drop the gun.” The man behind me said. I let out a small inaudible growl. This was my gun, no one touched it. “I said drop it,” he hissed. “Or I will have to blow your head.” Why do they always think saying blow makes it seem more... dare I say it, epic? Blow is for blowing up, as in I’m going to blow the building, but not for shooting. I highly doubt I have a bomb strapped to my head. But who knows, maybe somehow, by prodding me with the muzzle, some bomb magically strapped itself to my head. How would I know?

Now in a situation like this, Jake always said do as they say. But once again, how many times do I listen to Jake? However, in the back of my mind the image of Dane came up. My gut lurched and my heart clenched. Could I risk giving him up? And what about Zane? He needed my help, could I risk his life by not helping? My gut tightened at the thought of Zane. This was the last thing I needed, the very last. At least I can say I got my epic journey. However, if anyone asks, I ran so no one would witness me killing them, and I killed them off one by one in a nearby forest. In which time I never got rendered to my knees, but I did lose my gun where I had to improves and use vines. That’s how my epic journey went, if anyone was to ask.

Reluctantly I lifted my hand up slightly, un-wound my fingers from the grip, and dropped it. In the rain you couldn’t hear any sound, but I knew what it sounded like, from making others do the same thing many times.

“Good girl.” I gritted my teeth as he dug the muzzle in deeper, trying to get me onto my hands. That, however, I didn’t give him. I did clench my teeth now, gritting them no longer helping. I could feel the stitches peeling and I could feel my arm now pulsating. This wasn’t my day... wait, bad things have been happening to me for a while now... this wasn’t my week. Maybe it’s karma from not letting that old lady cross the road...

I hate karma.